


a bouquet of hearts

by sencha



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 06:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11225037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sencha/pseuds/sencha
Summary: Tsumugi can speak the language of flowers, but Banri doesn’t need words to find meaning.





	a bouquet of hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Jun for the A3! Hanakotoba Exchange.
> 
> ie, the TenYuki made me nervous, SO HAVE THIS EXTRA OTL

There is a reason Banri can’t stand Hyodo.

“What’s wrong with your hair,” the jerk says, the instant Banri steps into the bathroom to wash up.

“You picking a fight?” Banri snaps in return. He’s had a horrible sleep; his head feels like it’s on fire, and no matter how he turns he can’t seem to find a comfortable position on his pillow. Hyodo’s still staring at him, like Banri’s the freak show here instead of him with his stupid shaggy fringe and messed up tongue, and Banri really doesn’t have the patience to deal with him this early in the morning. “Spit it out or shut up.”

Hyodo opens his mouth. He closes it.

“I thought so,” Banri says, just so Hyodo can’t have the last word (the last action). He scrubs his hand through his hair tiredly, wincing when the strands prick against his fingers. Either he’s been drooling a _lot_ , or he’d forgotten to wash out the treatment properly in the shower last night, and now the gunk’s all stuck in his hair. This is probably what Hyodo was referring to, but Banri’d rather die than admit Hyodo might have had a point. “Whatever,” he mutters to himself, brushing his teeth as quickly as possible before slipping on a shirt and dragging himself across the courtyard for breakfast.

 

❀

 

He realises something is wrong when Tenma – sweet, sensible, slightly stupid Tenma – takes one look at him and shrieks loud enough to wake Hisoka-san upstairs. Omi drops a plate, Taichi whimpers, and Hyodo – Hyodo’s actually the only one who seems unaffected.

“What,” Banri says, feeling more and more like he’s missing something rather important. “Have you never seen bedhead before?”

Tenma points to Banri’s head, face twisting in a very strange expression, but he only manages to sputter a few incomprehensible syllables before Itaru-san saunters in, plucks out one of Banri’s hairs – _ow_ – and takes a deep breath in before smirking and handing back – is that a _flower_?

“You look like Bellossom,” Itaru-san says, which makes absolutely zero sense until Banri puts his hand to his own head and feels an incredibly strange sensation. It’s soft, almost like tissue paper; he rubs his fingers together and a large petal falls to the ground.

He’s beginning to get the feeling he has become the victim of a very strange prank.

“Does anyone have a mirror?” Everyone shakes their head in unison, so Banri shuffles over to the kitchen and squints at his reflection in one of the pots. He can see that he looks a bit more colourful than usual, but it’s hard to make out the details. He’s not stupid, though. He knows his Pokémon well enough to hazard a guess about what’s going on. “Itaru-san,” he says slowly, “have I got flowers on my head?"

“Mm, not really.” Itaru-san purses his lips together. “It’s more like you’ve got flowers growing out of your head, if I had to say.”

Banri turns slowly to Hyodo. “What the heck,” he says, because who else could it be but him? “What in the world made you decide to glue flowers to my – _ow!_ ”

He means to grab a flower for demonstrative purposes, but he must’ve struck himself on a branch instead. He shakes out his hand and pops the bleeding finger in his mouth, glaring at the table. Hyodo scowls back. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Liar.”

“Mm,” says Itaru-san again. He seems to be enjoying this far more than he has any right to. “I’d have to say he’s telling the truth. Anyway, you might want to avoid trying to touch your head for a while. He fiddles with his phone and flips the screen around to show Banri – he could have done that from the _start_ – but for one long moment, Banri doesn’t know quite what to make of the picture.

“Where are the flowers?” His head’s turned into some sort of punk-rock canvas; there are weird lumps and long spikes sticking out in every direction. He looks like a cactus. Then, to his absolute horror, the spikes bud and flower, pale blue petals unfurling into flowers that, in any other situation, he might have called pretty. “What the f – ”

“Banri-kun?”

At this terrible, soul-crushing moment in Banri’s life, an angel walks in.

“Tsumugi-san.”

“Is everything alright?” Tsumugi-san asks – the one question that nobody in this room has bothered to ask because clearly none of them are as good and kind as Tsumugi-san – and Banri feels himself melt under the genuine concern in Tsumugi-san’s eyes. He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear out of habit, nervous, and feels again the strange brush of petals against his hand.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” He shrugs helplessly, rolling one between his fingers. “I just woke up like this.”

Itaru-san’s cough sounds suspiciously like hidden laughter. Taichi makes some weird dog-like whine. “I see,” Tsumugi-san says, ignoring them. He’s a bit pink himself – Banri worries whether Tsumugi-san has come down with some sort of strange illness as well – and his eyes keep darting up to Banri’s head instead of his face, but overall it’s a much more welcome reaction than any Banri has received so far. “I take it you’re not going to school today?”

“It’s not like I need to, anyway.” Banri grins here, on more familiar ground now. “You can fill me in if I need it, right?”

Tsumugi-san laughs softly. “It’s a good thing I don’t have to tutor today,” he says. “Would you be able to help me out with the plants in return?”

“Easy,” Banri says. It’s laughable, how things come to him sometimes. Even this weird hair thing has resulted in more time with Tsumugi-san; he hadn’t even had to try. _Life’s good_ , he thinks, satisfied. “By the way, you know about flowers, right? What am I growing, anyway?”

Tsumugi-san goes even pinker. “It’s a mixture,” he says, quietly. “I’ll tell you later.”

 

❀

 

_Narcissus_ , Banri learns. _Cosmos_. Roses both red and white; the nigellas he’d seen flower through Itaru-san’s phone screen earlier on. He thinks of Hyodo and cacti, about Greek myths and public holidays. “What do they mean?” he asks, for the sake of it.

Tsumugi-san’s blush blooms bright in answer.


End file.
